Wedding Bells
by cheerry-blossoms
Summary: Preparing for the Wedding of The Year is definitely not the ideal way of reuniting with your former lover. NxM. AU
1. Chapter 1

**Summary** : Preparing for the Wedding of The Year is definitely not the ideal way of reuniting with your former lover.

 **Disclaimer** : I'm not rich. I'm not even Japanese. So I own Gakuen Alice. *Natsume throws fire balls at me* - this applies to all succeeding chapters

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 **Wedding Bells**

 **Chapter One**

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 **By: cheerry-blossoms**

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"Please don't leave our debutante alone there. Wait for the next guy to approach you, do you understand?" A pretty brunette in her mid-twenties holding sticks of blue roses and cradling a red clipboard on her other arm spoke in fluent Korean. The young boys formed in a line nodded obediently, their squinty eyes directed to the pair under the spotlight dancing to a slow music at the center of the hall.

The brunette's honey orbs brightened when the host announced a boy's name through the microphone. She handed a rose to the boy next to her and gave his shoulder a light tap, signaling him to stride towards the pair who were looking at him, grinning. The boy shyly pushed the rose to the birthday girl, who heartily laughed at him, but still accepted the rose before dancing with him.

Soon, the boys who were lined beside her were all called; it was already time for the last dance. Amused sounds from the audience erupted the moment the song had changed just for the special dance with the lady's escort. The lighting effects also added to achieve a more romantic feel to the dance.

She felt a pang in her chest listening to _'For a Moment Like This.'_ That song was a special request from the debutante to be played in this particular part, for it is their theme song.

A heavy sigh left her pink lips watching the young couple happily dancing at the center as if no one's around them, a loving aura radiating from the two. All eyes are on them.

The debutante indeed looked like a princess tonight; after all, she'd wanted to experience being one for her eighteenth birthday. She's in her white and silver princess gown, her light brown hair pulled up in a messy bun where a few loose curled strands are framing her face. A tiara was neatly nestled on the top of her head. But the sparkling sequins scattered on her dress could not rival to the shine on her black irises focused on the handsome black-haired boy she was dancing with. The boy had that same adoring look on his dark brown orbs.

For a moment, a memory of another pair of a young brunette and a raven-haired boy swaying to a slow love song flashed back to her. It almost brought tears to her eyes.

But that moment was instantly gone for the debutante's mother suddenly talked to her, completely snapping her out of her thoughts. And she was thankful for the distraction.

This was the first debut she had arranged in her almost three years of experience. Most of her projects before this were weddings, and there were few birthday parties. Her first client was a Japanese couple who were her workmates. It was just a trial, because the couple did not want to spend too much for a coordinator and thought she could do it, but then she was continuously referred to their clients' acquaintances after that, so she thought of sticking to this business.

The debutante tonight was the niece of the first Korean couple who became her client, and because she did a good job on their wedding, her parents, who were also present in the occasion, went to her for help. She was ecstatic when they talked to her.

She loved birthdays.

The event ended successfully. The debutante shed tears of joy during her speech to thank all of the guests. The young ones went home exhausted yet with big smiles on their faces after the wild party.

Even if she's not part of the celebration, she, too, had fun watching everyone participate in the program she had arranged.

Being an events coordinator was a very stressful job—running here and there, talking to different people every hour—it's much more tiring than when she was still in Marketing. Still, at the end of the day, when her clients give her their heartfelt gratitude, everything was worth it.

After settling things with her client and the suppliers, she headed directly to a secluded cafe in the outskirts of Seoul, near her apartment. All tired muscles in her body gradually relaxed when the fresh aroma of coffee welcomed her senses. Also, the warmth given off by the cafe was what she needed in the chilly weather. November was fast approaching, and so was winter.

At the soft chiming of the bell on the door, the pretty red head behind the cash register snapped her gaze to the entrance and beamed at the newcomer. "Mikan-chan!" The cashier greeted her in Japanese.

Sakura Mikan's smile brightened as she returned the greeting. Aside from the location, one reason she loved this cafe was because it was owned and ran by Japanese. Plus, most of its customers are Japanese, too. Whenever she misses her homeland, she visits the place. It became her sanctuary.

After telling the cashier her order and paying for it, her eyes roamed around the people chattering in their national language, expecting to see a certain woman she was supposed to meet. It was a nice break from spending the whole day with foreigners speaking in a foreign language. Apparently, six years was still not enough for her to get used to the country's ways.

She clapped her hands in excitement spotting a familiar mop of neat black hair at a corner, its owner sipping on her frappe.

"Hotaruuuuuu!" She squealed with open arms while running to the lone woman in a lab coat. Said lone woman immediately pulled out a small portable cannon and directed it to Mikan without sparing her a glance.

Pouting, Mikan took the seat across the short-haired woman who finally hid her _weapon_. It was not that harmless, actually. It was an upgraded version of one of Imai Hotaru's first inventions called the Baka Gun _'two-point-oh'_ which releases large toy bullets, activated when someone did an idiotic thing. It can lead to injury and collapse. Mikan was its unfortunate recipient most of the time.

"Ne, ne, Hotaru, I've got good news! Tsubasa-senpai and Misaki-senpai are getting married!" Mikan exclaims with a dreamy look on her face.

The black-haired lady's unemotional amethyst eyes met with Mikan's excited chocolate ones. The former calmly replied, "I assume you are their coordinator?"

"Yup! And you're invited, too!"

"When is it?"

"They want to hold it during the spring." Mikan shrugged. Which means, they may still have more than five months to prepare.

"When are you going?"

"I already booked a flight for next week."

"I see..." There was a short pause in the conversation, before Hotaru added, "But I can't go with you there now, Mikan."

Mikan's eyes softened at the change in Hotaru's usual strong tone. Her best friend really knew her well, more than she could ever know herself.

"Yeah, yeah, you're busy. I'll let you know when's the wedding gonna be."

Hotaru sighed, leaning on the seat's backrest and pressed two fingers on her forehead. Exhaustion was evident on her beautiful features, making her look a little older than her actual age. Working in the top technology company sure does drain all energy from you. "Are you ready to go back to Japan?" Hotaru carefully asked the other woman; Japan was a touchy subject between them.

 _'She's worried again.'_ Knowing how worrywart her best friend can be, Mikan flashed her best smile to the stoic woman before her. Her smiles can magically ease Hotaru's worries. "Uhuh! I'm a big girl now! Besides, I haven't visited grandpa for years! He'll get angry at me!" She exclaimed.

The thought of not visiting her grandpa made her frown a fraction. The last time she visited him was six years ago.

Surrendering to her best friend's stubbornness, Hotaru nodded. "Say hi to him for me."

Mikan beamed. Now that's her Hotaru.

"Yes!"

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On her way to the hall for a wedding ceremony she was handling, she stumbled upon a Japanese woman in her early thirties who was her client. The woman was her workmate from her previous job, and recently got married to a Korean businessman one month ago.

It was the most challenging wedding she had handled so far. The couple had wanted a beach wedding in Jeju, and since she was used to booking halls before that, the process had been stressful to her. Nonetheless, she had fun exploring her creativity and resources. It was a memorable experience, anyway, which she could use in the future. She had a feeling her favourite senpais would want something like that. Or worse.

She swore Ayame, the new wife, had been more beautiful than the last time she saw her. Love indeed can bring about changes to a person.

"Ayame-san! How's the honeymoon?" Mikan greeted the blooming wife.

"It's great!" If she could recall correctly, the new Mr. and Mrs. Kim have agreed on touring Europe for their honeymoon. No wonder her friend had a wonderful time. It was evident on the stars in her eyes while she's narrating her experiences.

Then, Ayame brought out two small red envelopes from her shoulder bag and gave it to the coordinator. "Mikan-san, really, thank you for organizing our wedding! All of us had so much fun! Please accept our gift!"

"I-It's an honor! What are these?" Mikan hesitantly took the envelope. Inside it were two tickets to a photo exhibit by professional photographers from all over the world, to be held in Seoul Institute of the Arts.

"Well, my husband— _oh my god that sounded so nice!_ —he received tickets to that photo exhibit. It's not much, but we heard you love taking pictures? You'll surely enjoy there!"

True, she loved bringing out her camera during her free time or whenever she saw something precious. How she loved capturing people's raw emotions and preserving it. But she's not a professional; it was just a hobby. She even had no idea on apertures, angles, shots, and whatever photography technical terms there are. All she knew were the filters in Camera 360 and Retrica.

Her camera was actually invented by Hotaru and was given to her for her twenty-first birthday. Since then, it became one of her most prized treasures. She's a sentimental type of person.

"Wow, thank you!" Her mood got better because of it.

Ayame snapped her fingers and bounced on her heels. "Oh! I heard one of the featured photographers is a Japanese, too. Aaaand he's around your age and is single! Maybe you can, you know..."

Mikan sheepishly smiled at the suggestive look her friend was giving her. "Gee, why does everyone wants me to date? I'm really not interested yet..."

Except Hotaru, her friends in Korea had been setting her up with various guys, Japanese and Korean. She tried getting along with them, she really did, but there was no _spark_. The kind of spark she had with...

You know, _the spark._ Yeah.

"Because, an excellent wedding coordinator like you to have no partner in life is unbelievable!"

 _'You are unbelievable,'_ she thought.

"We'll get to that soon."

 _Yeah, soon._

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Privileged to be loaded since birth, he can go to countries easier than normal as if he's riding a cab.

He was used to airplanes and jet lags, anyway. Due to his parents' businesses, they constantly transfer to different cities and provinces. They had no permanent address. So, he did not have many friends.

Perhaps, his longest stay in a place was in Tokyo, during his Middle School to High School days. He actually thought they would finally settle down there, because his family loved Tokyo. He would not mind, at all.

Those were, without doubt, the best years in his life.

He did not want to go.

Unfortunate things happened, and he had to let go of the place he had become fond of, the memories with the people he began cherishing (although he will never voice that out), and the only woman he had loved.

That was his biggest regret.

Now that he's given the freedom he needed, he made sure to frequently go back to that precious place. Only that, his precious person was not there anymore. No one knew where she went.

Still, he would wait for her. No, scratch that. He would look for her.

To appreciate the beauty of the world and expose its ugliness, he decided to travel the world and take up photography.

No, it was not a childhood dream or anything. In fact, he had never entertained that thought when he was still young. He had just wanted to showcase the reality of life that he saw through his eyes. He wanted to share it to the world. He figured Photography was one of the best ways to achieve that.

Thankfully, he discovered he had the talent for it. He knew the right timing; the right angle. He knew the right subjects. His trusted camera knew what to capture. His finger knew when to hit the shutter button. Maybe he was meant to be in this industry.

Or maybe it was because he was a genius.

He was known for his candid, black and white style. His best friend often joked that all of his photos were _emo_ just like him, to which he replied with a mere snort.

His best friend was as perceptive as ever of him, though. It was exactly as he had said. His life was practically colorless, ever since he walked away from the sun— _his_ sun. He was still in the process of truly appreciating the smallest of things, but until he gets back his reason to smile, his photos will remain that way. Besides, one can appreciate life even if it's in black and white. Not all colorful things are beautiful.

There are still more to learn, to discover about this world. There are more places to search for the sole meaning of his life. He will not stop. For her.

He was not the most known in the industry. _Not yet_. To his credit, he was one of the rising stars. His pieces are slowly getting recognized worldwide. He had been invited to join more photo exhibits this year. The pay had been pretty good, too. Interested buyers increased.

If given the opportunity, he might be able to put up his own solo exhibit soon.

.

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Seoul Institute of the Arts students and other guests, including a few media men, flocked excitedly inside the gigantic hall. Groups of them were carefully observing each of the framed masterpieces hung on the white walls while some were taking notes. Awe can be seen on their faces, which was to be expected, for the exhibit had gathered the works of the best rookies in the world of photography. Plus, the artists themselves were present.

If there was one thing Hyuuga Natsume loathed the most, it was a nosy, annoying crowd. He was bugged nonstop by the media and squealing female students the second he stepped out of the backroom. Majority of them were blabbing in Korean, so how was he supposed to understand them? He hated it when someone was shouting at him until his eardrums bled.

It was not even five minutes from his appearance and he already wanted to go back to his solitary.

Thank Kami for his assistant for coming to his rescue.

"Excuse me, _niisan_ ," his assistant, Hijiri Youichi, whispered to him and handed him his phone. "You've got a call from Andou. Says it's urgent."

For the first time in his twenty-four—nearly twenty-five—years of existence, he was _a little_ grateful to that Andou. There was no way he will tell him that.

Quite enthusiastically, (honestly though, he was not enthusiastic to talk to that old man) he accepted the phone and excused himself, eagerly making his way to the backroom. Finally, he's alone!

"What." He rudely answered. Not that the other minded.

 _"Oi, brat! This is your awesome Tsubasa-senpai!"_ Said the older male from the other line. Andou Tsubasa was an annoying upperclassman when he was still in Middle School. Tsubasa was older than Natsume by four years.

"Bye." He still doesn't respect him, though.

 _"WAIT! WAIT! Hear me out first, geez!"_

"What. Do. You. Need." He growled. He's sure Andou's reason for the overseas call was not urgent _and_ significant. He's not in the mood to deal with his nonsense.

 _"I'm sure you've heard the wonderful news that I'll be finally tying the knot with my—"_

"Get to the point, old bald man." He rolled his eyes. Andou easily got on his nerves. Tsubasa was like an older male version of _her_.

Tsubasa clicked his tongue. _"Still so impatient! And I'm not old and bald! Anyways, we want to hire you as our official photo—"_ He knew where this will lead.

"No."

 _"WHAT! But Natsumeeehhh!"_ Tsubasa whined. Natsume had the urge to throw his phone.

"That's Hyuuga-sama for you." He corrected. Hell, they're not close.

 _"Fine, HYUUGA. Please, Hyuuga-_ san _? You're the only one we can trust."_

"I'm a very busy person."

 _"And one of the best."_ Oh, so now he's resorting to inflating his ego? He actually thought it will work on him? Psh. Cheap.

"Hn. I don't do events, Andou." Events were just... unappealing to him. Birthdays, reunions, weddings... they leave a bitter taste on his tongue. Moreover, he could not imagine himself instructing a bunch of strangers on how and what to pose or whatever shit. He hated scripted stuff. _Especially Andou_. He can tolerate Harada, but not Andou. _Never_.

But what Andou said next caught him off guard.

 _"She's gonna be there, you know."_

"Fine," He almost gasped hearing himself answer so quickly. That old bastard knew how to trick him. He was certain he could _hear_ the older man grinning smugly. So he added, in hopes of regaining his dignity, "But I can't stay long."

Andou the bastard finally laughed. He did not like it. _"I know, I know. We'll probably need you only for a meeting, then the pre-nup shoot and the actual wedding day. Depends on the coordinator."_

 _Coordinator?_ He hated those privy coordinators who rush them all the time to meet with deadlines. As if their creative sides can be awakened whenever they wanted! Psh. "Let me know ahead so I can adjust my schedule." He sighed dejectedly. There's no turning back.

 _"Alright! Love you!"_

He immediately ended the call.

"Disgusting."

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As expected, the photos in the exhibit were amazing. Or maybe she really was just easy to impress.

The theme for the exhibit was "meaning." Although she could not, for the life of her, understand the deep meanings behind each photos, it was enough for her that the photos were pleasant to the eyes. That was why she could not make it as an artist... ever.

There was one photo that captured her interest. It was a photo of a sunset in the shore of a beach, and on the left side, there was a small full-body silhouette of a girl whose arms are widely spread. The angle was slightly low, so the photographer was, perhaps, sitting on a chair when he took it.

She was not an expert in photography, but anyone who sees this will know it was raw. It was not edited, it was caught in the spur of the moment, and this was taken years ago.

Still, it was... beautiful... She was captivated by the photo in a different way than those of the other better pictures did. Maybe it was because she loved beaches...

Or maybe because it reminded her of a person.

Her gaze landed on the small bronze plate under the bronze frame. The writings were in English.

"What... happiness... is...?" She read with narrowed eyes. She sucked in English.

A soft squeal from the center of the hall distracted her. Men carrying cameras, phones and tall lights, and female students were gathered to a circle. She could hear them talk altogether in Korean and English.

She could only catch some phrases.

 _"Plans... next location... exhibit..."_

 _"What are your thoughts... others' entries... skills..."_

 _"One photo... meaning... inspiration... girl..."_

She hated the media. She pitied whoever was in the middle of that crowd's attention. But she could conclude that person had not replied to any questions yet, because they were not shutting up.

 _"Excuse me,_ niisan _..."_

Mikan's ears perked up hearing that come from the crowd. So the interviewee was the Japanese photographer? _That must be him!_

Mikan was always happy to meet a fellow Japanese in this country.

 _Let me see him... Let me see him_... she chanted mentally while walking to the crowd.

However, a soft hand gripped her wrist. There she saw the older version of her, Yuka, who effortlessly maintained a youthful face, her similarly brown tresses cropped just above her shoulders.

Yuka gave birth to her before she even reached the legal age, that was why the two of them were often mistaken as siblings. Her mother was definitely more beautiful than her, though.

"Mom," she had gotten two tickets, and since she had not hung out with her mother recently, she decided to take Yuka with her for the exhibit. Luckily, they were both free for that day. Hotaru was not a fan of these events, after all.

Yuka raised her phone in her hand, her face looking apologetic. "My boss called me. She needed me at the office today. But we'll have lunch first, is that okay?" Her mother was working at a publishing company and they're in the _busy season,_ so she understood if Yuka will be called even on her day off.

She smiled. "Of course, Mom! I'm craving for _Jjajangmyeon_!" She might not have been used to the country's ways, but she loved Korean cuisine, especially the noodles. Yuka laughed and agreed.

Mikan had let her mother pull her out of the hall. She took one last glance to the center; however, the crowd was already dispersing and there was no Japanese male in it.

.

.

While Mikan and her mother were in the car, Mikan's phone rang. She let her favourite song, _'Pika Pika No Taiyo'_ play for a few seconds before answering the phone without looking at the caller ID.

"Hello, this is Mikan!" She giddily answered in Korean. She was weirdly in a good mood today.

 _"What did you say?"_ The woman from the receiver spoke in Japanese. She quickly looked at the screen, and her eyes got wide seeing who called her. She immediately pressed it back on her ear.

"Aha! I'm sorry, Misaki-senpai! Was used to greeting that way!" She sheepishly grinned, her language shifting to Japanese. She saw Yuka giggling.

 _"Tsk. Korean girl. Anyway, the photographer said yes!"_ Harada Misaki squealed.

Mikan sighed in relief; she's got one less problem to deal with. She did not know any events photographer in Japan. Bringing one from Korea would be a hassle. It's a good thing Tsubasa said he had one photographer in mind, but _that guy_ was hard to convince, and her favourite senpai seemed to have succeeded.

"That's great, Senpai! We'll immediately plan your schedule when I get there!"

 _"Sure, sure! I'll give you his contact number after you're settled. See you!"_

Seems like today was her lucky day.

 **TO BE CONTINUED**

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 _*Jjajangmyeon = Korean black bean sauce noodles. IT TASTES GOOOOOD!_

 _*I'm not really that familiar in the seasons in Japan and Korea, since it's different in my country, so forgive me if there are errors in my research. I'll change their seasons mehehehe_

 _*This was unedited. Sobs._

 _*I haven't encountered a fic where Natsume is a photographer yet cos he's always the model. If there already is, then I obviously haven't read it yet lelels of course, I don't think an events coordinator is a commonly used profession for the characters so Imma try it out._

 _Soooo... how did I do? :)_

 ** _cheerry_**


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary** : Preparing for the Wedding of The Year is definitely not the ideal way of reuniting with your former lover.

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 **Wedding Bells**

 **Chapter Two**

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 **By: cheerry-blossoms**

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Within the confines of the apartment's small living room, a gentle melody playing from the laptop was filling the silence that usually enveloped the unit. There on the beige-coloured couch was Mikan cozily half-lying with her laptop rested on her stretched legs, happily humming along the tune of the relaxing music.

Her mother leaves for work when the clock strikes eight AM, and then returns at around seven in the evening; therefore, she has their apartment all to herself during the day when she has nothing scheduled. Despite her unstoppable loud mouth and love for socializing, she actually preferred working in tranquility, especially when she's doing research as it makes her think better.

 _"I'm surprised you_ think _."_ She pouted remembering Hotaru's words to her when they first entered university in Gyeonggi. She may not be the brightest student, but she always did her best during examinations. For her, it was enough to get a passing mark, 'cause she knew she could never be one of the top students. That was Hotaru's goal, anyway.

And she _thinks_ , for Kami's sake!

Excitedly, she browsed for unique wedding articles and pictures in the internet, her round honey eyes sparkling at every interesting discovery she had made. People are getting more creative and innovative these days! The themes today were viewed unacceptable and inappropriate before. Due to the culture and tradition, people back then stuck to following the conventional, but as years passed by, unique ways of celebrating were getting developed and are now becoming a trend. This was why events was quickly becoming an in-demand industry nowadays.

She then began taking notes on possible themes which will suit her new clients' taste based on their personalities.

Her Tsubasa-senpai is one of the most famous actors in Japan. Aside from being included in the lists of most attractive male celebrities for years, Tsubasa was known to have stayed loyal to his non-showbiz girlfriend of twelve years in his entire career, despite the number of gorgeous celebrities and fans flocking towards him; thus also making him the ideal guy of young girls, not only in Japan, but in Asia. He was branded a rare gem.

Their love story was adored by many. A charming and naughty celebrity, and a beautiful and tough policewoman—they're a strange combination but their relationship worked out! Who would not find them interesting?

Mikan will not deny the anxiety she's feeling. As much as the couple's dating years were peaceful, their engagement was suddenly causing uproar. People label the upcoming event as the 'Wedding of the Year' due to the couple's popularity, and now everyone was having high expectations for the wedding. This will have to be the biggest and most successful she will handle, not only for her reputation in the industry, but also because these two were the closest upperclassmen to her.

She treats the two of them as the older siblings she never had. They cared for her, as well. They were some of the first to trust and accept her in the academy, so she will make sure to give them the best wedding a couple could ever have in return for everything they have done for her.

After all, her senpais are really weird and outrageous—reason why they got along. And because she knew them so well, she's already preparing herself for the most unique and challenging request from the engaged couple.

Tsubasa and Misaki were clear on not accepting sponsors for the event, for they intended on spending their own money for it. Except for the photographer and his team, they had entrusted her on the searching of the remaining suppliers. As this will be the first event she'll handle in Japan, she'd normally find difficulty in looking for trusty suppliers. Fortunately, she had met some of her academy friends in a bridal fair in Jeju last year. It was a joyful reunion, really. She had never expected they would end up in the same industry! They, too, were surprised because no one thought Mikan would be a coordinator (and was just staying in the neighboring country all these years).

She had already contacted Osagawara Nonoko and Umenomiya Anna for the cake and catering; they became business partners and are managing a bakery and restaurant together. Of course they said yes and were ecstatic about it. Tobita Yuu, who she once thought would run for the government, also agreed to be in charge of the invitations and souvenirs. Shouda Sumire, though, was playing hard to get at first, saying she was in Paris and then will fly to Italy, blah blah blah. In the end, Mikan decided she won't ask Sumire; she will _force_ her. Sumire was slowly getting recognized for her designs, anyway, and being Tsubasa and Misaki's designer will definitely push her more upwards. Who else will help each other?

As for the other suppliers needed, they'll have to wait after her official meeting with the couple a few days from now.

She was getting excited. She finally had a reason to come back to her homeland and reunite with her friends! She can't wait to hear their stories and how successful they are now. After all, Alice Academy was a school not only for the rich, but also for the genius. Their alumni always come a long way, always remarkable in their chosen field. Students there were honed since young to be the best of the best in the world. No one disappointed the expectations. Except, perhaps, her, but she was a special case.

She paused. What about Natsume? What about Ruka-pyon? What happened to them? How is he? What are they doing now? All she knew was Ruka-pyon choosing to stay in Alice University for College.

She stared at Google's homepage, her gaze particularly glued on that long rectangle under the colorful and animated GOOGLE letters.

Maybe she will find something about Natsume in the internet. He will surely be popular, because of his looks (never mind the attitude), in whatever career he was in. Perhaps, he was already managing his parents' business. He did not have a dream job, for he was expected to take over the 'Hyuuga Group of Companies', with his younger sister, Aoi.

She did not ask her friends, even Tsubasa and Misaki, about him. She did not have the courage to. Moreover, Hotaru told her if she wanted to move on, she'd have to completely cut all communication with Natsume and the people he's very close with—and that's only Ruka.

So, even if her tongue was itching to ask _something_ about Natsume, she endured it and tried forgetting about it. Thankfully, her friends were considerate enough not to open any Natsume topic, not even the fruit.

She was not that bitter, really. It was more like she did not have the right to.

She just thought she was special to him.

Or, maybe she was not, at all, _that jerk_. She was just another annoying girl.

And yet, there was not a day Natsume had not crossed her mind.

 _Just a little peek won't hurt_ , she chanted in her mind. She really was curious! Six years have already passed, and she has moved on from those silly childish feelings. Even if they did not part in good terms, Natsume was still her friend. Of course she was—can be—concerned, yes?

Tentatively, she typed 'Hyuuga' on the search box. A dialog box appeared under it displaying a list of automatic suggested subjects. Her heartbeat rate increased double as she read the items.

 _Hyuuga Hinata..._

 _Hyuuga Neji..._

 _Hyuuga Hanabi..._

 _Hyuuga Natsume_

 _'Eep! There he is!'_ she squeaked in her mind.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she harshly pressed the backspace button until the box was left blank, lingering there for a moment before she opened her eyes.

Her slightly shaky hand was pressed against her chest as she inhaled deeply to steady her erratic heartbeat. How can a mere name do something like that to her? How can he still have that effect on her, when he was out of her life for half a decade?

Why was she still scared?

.

.

"Are you sure you can do this alone?" The black-haired woman calmly asked, though her amethyst eyes showed genuine concern for the brunette. Yuka was beside Hotaru, looking as worried as the inventor for her daughter. It was Mikan's first time going overseas alone.

Hotaru and Yuka had to stay because of work. Hotaru's team was in the middle of an important experiment so she can't accompany Mikan to Japan for now. Besides, she's not even in the entourage, so there will be no need for her constant presence. Yuka was working extra hard recently so she could have that promotion she had been waiting for.

"Mou, I'm not a baby, Hotaru..." Mikan whined while pouting. Her best friend really had a weird way of showing affection. Hotaru can be mean to her, but then gets protective of her the next time. Good thing she already knew the "Hotaru language" by heart which not everyone had the privilege to do so. That girl was one complicated person, just like Natsume.

"But you're an idiot." Hotaru retorted, shifting back to her normal mean self.

"Meanie!" Mikan stuck her tongue out, only to receive a flick on the forehead as punishment.

"He might be there..." The taller girl intended it as a murmur, thinking the noise coming from the people in the airport will block it from Mikan's hearing. However, the crestfallen expression on her best friend's face signified she was heard. She forgot Mikan's hearing was quite sharp in contrast to her slow pick up.

Yuka shot her daughter a worried look. Though Mikan was still finding it hard to open up to her, Yuka knew who this Natsume was in her only child's life.

The thought of a certain crimson-eyed bastard touching a single strand of Mikan's hair made Hotaru's blood boil. "Your idiotic senpai will surely invite him." Hotaru almost growled.

 _I know_ , Mikan thought. She was aware of it. She had expected it. Sure, Tsubasa and Misaki were enraged at what Natsume did, but she just had this strong feeling that guy was invited by Tsubasa just to annoy him or something. Or maybe because Ruka will be invited, too?

Whatever the reason, the real question should be: was she ready to finally face him again?

.

On second thought, Natsume will surely say no.

Right?

.

.

 _"Natsume! What's up?"_ Nogi Ruka's jolly voice rang from the other side of the line. They had not talked for more than a month, now.

The past week in Seoul took up most of his time attending exhibits, conferences and interviews which all did not seem to end. He would always go home irritated and exhausted to the bones, and then headed straight for bed without changing clothes, no matter how many times Youichi told him to do so.

His schedule in Mumbai was a little loose. In his one-week stay there, two rest days were given to him which he decided to use for travel purposes. India was a beautiful country, home to natural breathtaking sceneries. There was no moment he had hidden his camera whenever he's there. The exotic places in the country were perfect for his artistic style, begging to be captured by his lenses.

She would love it here.

"Hn. I'll be going back for the bald guy's pre-nup." Natsume uttered as he slumped on the brown couch. His legs suddenly felt numb from walking around the freaking gigantic museum all day. Maybe he should go to the gym again once he returns to California.

" _Wow, you agreed to be the photographer?"_ Ruka gasped. That was definitely unexpected, his decision.

Natsume smirked; his best friend knew him very well. He had never tried for events, or people, and he was certain he never will. It was just not for him. He can convey messages through his landscapes; however, perfectly capturing a person's emotion seemed impossible for him. He could not do it.

He was unfamiliar with that area; therefore, he sought help from Mochiage, another academy friend who did a sideline as a videographer in corporate events. Mochu said yes, and even suggested tagging Kokoroyomi and Kitsuneme along. Apparently, the two idiots started a small advertising agency, and it was gradually making its own mark. He figured they could be helpful to both pre and post prod periods, so he agreed.

He had just left Koko a message since he did not want to talk to that strange psychic. He had always wanted to strangle that dork for his annoyingness before.

"Aa." Honestly, he was not surprised to know Ruka was in the guest list. The blond was in good terms with the couple since Ruka was his total opposite—nice, princely and all the other good shit he did not possess. He still wondered how Ruka had put up with him, just like Mikan.

 _'She's gonna be there, you know...'_

"Ruka..." he trailed off, "Hage said she's attending..." It had not fully registered in him until he finally said it out loud. From the time Tsubasa told him that, he had kept it inside him, not wanting to tell another soul for it might get jinxed. Silly, yes, but this was his chance to meet her again, to fix things between them. He did not want anything to ruin the chance. But telling it to Ruka made him feel incredibly lighter.

 _"Isn't that good news, Natsume?"_

"I know, it's just..." He pressed his lips into a firm line, thinking of the right words to say, "I don't know what to expect..."

Ruka's silence urged him to continue.

"I never promised her anything..."

It was his fault, that he knew very much. He did not know why he had that crazy thought of not telling Mikan the truth then. Mikan, the only person aside from Ruka who can read him like a book, had noticed something was wrong with him. She confronted him about it, but because he was resolved on not saying a thing, the interrogation turned to their first and biggest argument they have never solved at the end of the day.

That was their last conversation, if that was even the right term. And it was all his fault.

 _"She loved you, Natsume."_

He chuckled bitterly. " _Loved_. Past tense. What if she doesn't anymore?" His heart sunk at the thought.

 _"Then you'll make her fall for you again, won't you?"_

Natsume's gaze shifted to the large framed photograph with the letters NH neatly printed on the lower right corner of it.

"Hn."

.

.

 _For Mikan's birthday, he brought her to his family's villa by the sea. The beach was Mikan's favourite place. She loved the feeling of her small feet sinking onto the smooth white sand, she loved the fresh sea air she breathed, and she loved how beaches give her a wonderful view of the sunset._

 _She said it was the best birthday gift._

 _He almost said the three words. She was so, so beautiful it's painful._

 _She will be the death of him._

 _When the sun started to set, painting the sky red and orange, Mikan stood up from the picnic cloth and ran towards the shore with her arms widely spread at her side, letting the wind gently caress her hair and body._

 _In an instant, seeing her so happy, so contented, his deft fingers reached for his camera, and before he knew it, he had already captured that beautiful moment._

 _That was the first photograph he took using his new digital camera._

 _He found the picture again years after, and decided to feature it in every exhibition he joined, because that single photo, which conveyed all of his emotions he thought were nonexistent, will qualify in any theme._

 _That was his only photo that featured a person, and the only photo he never sold._

 _It was what happiness meant to him._

 **TO BE CONTINUED**

* * *

 _They will meet again... soon! :D_

 _I hope you're still interested in this! I'm trying my very best!_

 _Oh, and please please let me know your thoughts :)_

 ** _cheerry_**


	3. Chapter 3

_Some reviews were about me mentioning Korea and India in my story. I'm so glad it made you guys happy! I wanted to feature other countries aside from Japan and USA since they're the most frequently used as the setting of fics, y'know, just wanted to present something new. Besides, Natsume is a traveler so it makes sense :) I'm quite used to writing in a Korean setting, but not in an Indian one. Please forgive me for any discrepancies you might find! And please do inform me :)_

 _Oh, and to answer **Anilissa** and **Lady Monroe** 's question on how many chapters this will have, it would definitely be more than ten, but less than twenty. I write long, ugh.  
_

 _I love reading your reviews! Please keep it going! :)_

 **Summary** : Preparing for the Wedding of The Year is definitely not the ideal way of reuniting with your former lover.

* * *

 **Wedding Bells**

 **Chapter Three**

 **.**

 **By: cheerry-blossoms**

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"Ne, ne, ne, guess who's back? Guess who's back?"

The brunette lightly twirled, the skirt of her yellow sundress flowing along her movement. She stopped and flashed her sweetest smile as she clasped her hands behind her.

"It's me, Grandpa!" Mikan chirped happily with her arms widely spread.

For a moment, there was no response, but it did not keep hyperactive Mikan from talking. She was the talkative one between them, anyway, and she will always be. That one fact will never change.

"It's been six years, huh." Suddenly, her amber eyes softened, as well as her voice. Just as fast as she turned solemn, she went back to her happy state in an instant. "How do I look now? Hotaru said I still look like a child, but I think I've already matured for a teeny tiny bit!"

Without waiting for another reply, she continues, this time, her pitch rising, "Oh, you think so, too? That's why I love you!" She giggled while clapping her hands together.

"Anyways, I'm here 'cause my senpais are getting married and they've asked me for help in arranging it! You remember Tsubasa-senpai and Misaki-senpai? Yes, them!"

A shaky, heavy sigh soon left her cherry lips, only managing to retain her sweet smile despite the dampening of her mood and the atmosphere. She lifted her teary gaze up the reddish sky, and relished in the cool breeze touching her face.

"Can you see me now, Grandpa? Are you watching me from up there? Can you see how I'm growing up? I hope you're proud of me. Too bad I was not able to spoil you. I miss you, Grandpa..."

Her bare knees gently touched the grass, silently liking the soft sound of it crumpling at her every movement. She lifted an arm and reached for the large grey stone in front of her, her eyes and fingers skimming through the characters embedded on the surface she would never, ever forget. It had been many years since the last time she was there, and yet, the stone and scribbling still looked the same from the last she remembered.

Maybe Narumi-sensei kept his promise of maintaining it while she and her mother were away.

Chuckling a little at the thought, she wiped her tears using her orange scarf, which was her Grandpa's last gift for her, and talked to the tombstone once again.

"Is Dad with you? Wait, do you even know my dad? Still, if you ever see him there by chance—his name is Izumi and he looks a loooot like Uncle Kazu—please tell him I might visit him, too! Love you both!"

.

.

Seoul was naturally a colder place than Tokyo, even during this time of the year. They had just entered November, and winter was beginning to make its presence felt by the people. In Japan, the wind was getting colder now, although snow in Tokyo does not last for long, unlike in Seoul. Having stayed in Korea for years made her a little immune to Japan's winter weather, that was why she wore only a jacket and scarf above a sleeveless dress, while Misaki, who was conservatively dressed, was already hugging herself tight. She was fortunately on a day-off.

"Senpai." Mikan called the pink-haired woman in thick clothes.

"Hey," Misaki greeted back. "You okay?" Mikan thought she should be the one asking that to the older woman, but she knew Misaki was not talking about the weather.

"Better! I miss talking to Grandpa like that. I think I'm gonna go visit Dad, too." The brunette replied enthusiastically, making the policewoman smile back.

.

.

As Misaki walked to a nearby unoccupied table, Mikan stayed by the corner to chat a little more with Nonoko since she had other employees to attend to the customers' needs in the restaurant, while Anna was at the kitchen.

Back in their academy days, Nonoko had sported a long black hair with straight bangs covering her forehead. Now, she had brown highlights, and her hair was as short as Yuka's. Oh, and no bangs anymore, which showcased more of her baby-face features.

Their conversation about a monster client was interrupted when Mikan was called by a rather familiar male voice from her side.

"S-Sakura?"

She tilted her head to side, catching sight of a tall, _sparkling_ and gorgeous blond staring right back at her with wide baby blue eyes. Quickly registering those features in her mind, she knew only one person who would definitely fit the description.

"Ruka-pyon?" She tested using the nickname she fondly used for him, and the brightening of the blond's face confirmed his identity. She beamed, too. "Omo, it is you, Ruka-pyon! How are you?" The last time she saw this guy, he was still a bit lanky and was more on the cute boy side than handsome. But now—wow, he looked like a prince from a fairytale! It was amazing how six years can change a person this much!

"I'm fine, Sakura, thank you. How about you? You look... um..." Ruka trailed off, his cheeks tainted in light pink.

"Lookie, lookie, Ruka-pyon is so cute..." Misaki decided to join and began the teasing, causing for the blush on Ruka's cheeks to turn darker.

"You look... great... yeah..." Ruka mumbled, pretending to not have heard the rosette's comment.

"Thanks! You, too!" The forever unsuspecting Mikan replied. She did not see anything wrong when Ruka's face went red.

"I-I... really?"

"Yup! Want to come sit with us? We've got a lot of catching up to do!"

The blond looked down shyly. Due to his overwhelming thoughts and emotions, he was totally unaware of Misaki and Nonoko bringing out their phones to tape the scene. "I-If that's okay..."

Misaki made it look like she was merely texting when Ruka glanced suspiciously at her.

"Don't worry about me. I can even leave the two of you alone."

"H-Harada-senpai!" Misaki was still the number one Ruka-Mikan shipper, after all. Some things indeed don't change.

"You still make me sound so old. Fine. I was just kidding." Misaki did not fight a sly grin when Mikan squealed and dragged the blushing Ruka to their table.

Ruka and Mikan's dynamics instantly returned as if they were not separated for six years. They had always found it easy to think of a topic when they're talking, because both of them were the type who can talk about anything and listen to any issue. Perhaps, that night, they could last for two days just chatting because, indeed, they had a lot to catch up on.

As expected, Ruka ended up being a veterinarian; he had always been too fond of animals and he had that strange talent to tame even the wildest animal in the jungle. He should have tried out joining the Animal Planet, too, but Ruka was too shy in front of the camera to do that.

She found out Ruka was still single. He said he had tried dating a few girls in college, but it did not work out for him. He realized he did not want them. Or any relationship. He said he was not ready.

At this, Mikan felt a little guilty. She actually had a huge crush on Ruka before and thought they were the destined ones, but Natsume just had to butt in and force his egoistical and perverted self into her naive heart. If Natsume did not make her fall for him, she might have ended up with Ruka...

She might have been happier with Ruka.

She's dense, she knows it. She would not have known Ruka's feelings for her if Ruka had not confessed to her—he actually confessed earlier than his ass of a best friend. Ruka's a good guy. He fits her description of a perfect boyfriend and husband. He has got the perfect package. She will definitely have a better life with him.

Then why did she still choose that red-eyed pervert with silky inky locks who loved discovering her panty print for the day?

"Wait, so you were in South Korea all these years?" Ruka asked as he carefully placed the cup back on the table.

"Yup."

"Natsume was in Seoul last week!" Ruka gasped. Realizing what he said, the blond hastily apologized and covered his mouth to show Mikan he would not mention Natsume again.

After seconds of speechlessness, Mikan tried assuring Ruka it was alright, so there was no need for apologies.

Misaki and Ruka knew that was a lie.

.

.

Natsume released a sigh as he slipped his phone back in his pocket. Kokoroyomi just did his life mission which was to annoy him until he explodes. Although it was a good excuse to go out from the hall, talking to his former classmate seemed to be more exhausting than talking to the press. Ever since Koko got a hold of his number (three days ago), the idiot made sure to call him every single fucking day to report about the happenings in his not-so-interesting life.

He knew Koko was just being a nice friend and was trying to have him catch up on things he had missed, but damn, he did not need to know what brand of underwear he'd bought! (If it was Mikan, then he'll do the honours of discovering it himself, yes?) That was why he rarely hung out with Koko and his pals while he was visiting Japan.

Tonight was the last night of the exhibit, and was supposedly the last night of his stay in India. However, he'd wanted to visit a few more places in the country where he had not explored yet, so he told Youichi to fly back without him.

Youichi was still a student, after all, a sophomore at Oxford majoring in Psychology. As to why he chose to part-time as Natsume's assistant, it was merely because he respects Natsume and, of course, the travel incentive was pretty enticing. He was only needed for business purposes, anyway.

Natsume chose to stay outside for a while just to clear his head. He checked for messages on his Viber and was about to tap his thread with Ruka, but a notification of a new Skype chat distracted him. What annoyed him was the continuous notifications of new messages appeared on his screen, all coming from Tsubasa.

First, Koko, and now Tsubasa. When will idiots stop pestering him?

He growled lightly reading twenty two (according to the status bar) 'HEY's on the chatbox. Then Tsubasa's latest message was a picture of him half naked and blowing a kiss to the screen.

Natsume almost threw his phone.

The photographer replied an angry: 'GO BALD' knowing it will piss the older man.

But the reaction was unexpected. Tsubasa only replied: _'Video call pls.'_ He was anticipating for an equally angry 'I AM NOT BALD, YOU BRAT' retort from the other.

'No.' Natsume typed, his short eyebrows nearly touching each other in the middle.

 _'Pls_.'

'No.'

Much to his surprise, a video call request popped on the screen and there he saw Tsubasa's ugly old face on the thumbnail. Immediately, he rejected it and typed: 'I'm at work, dumbass.'

 _'But you can text? :((('_

What the hell is with that emoticon?

As he did not reply, Tsubasa flooded him with messages, yet again.

 _'The coordinator wants to talk to you.'_

 _'Pls? We're finalizing the sched now.'_

 _'The only one she hadn't talked to yet was you and you still can't go here. Pls.'_

 _'Hyuuga-sama'_

He knew the last message was forced, but it somehow boosted his ego up, especially that it was from the Hage.

'Call after exactly one hour or else I'll kill you. I told you I'm working.'

And work he did after that.

.

.

Surprisingly, Tsubasa did call after one hour, exactly. The event ended ten minutes following his chat with Tsubasa, and there was nothing else he was supposed to do in there anymore. He did not stay for more chatting-slash-gossiping like females because he just wanted to go home immediately. He hated socializing, and he hated the media... he just hated people, actually.

He was finally inside his hotel room, dressed in his comfortable white shirt and plain blue boxers, sitting in front of his laptop waiting for Tsubasa's face to appear. And no, he's not excited. He was just there to be professional since they were going to talk about business. And business is equals to money.

Damn, when did he start thinking like Mikan's creepy best friend?

Seriously, though, he hated talking to coordinators, especially when they're female. They're bossy and squeaky and... Sometimes, they _try_ to flirt with him. It was not a good thing. Most of them were attractive, yes, but no one can match _his_ Mikan's charm. His standards are very high, thank you very much.

Then, Tsubasa's face appeared on the screen. He seemed to be inside a conference room or something, as the wall behind him was painted in plain white and the chair he's sitting on looked like that of a CEO's. Why were they on a meeting at such a late hour? It was already seven in the evening in India, and Japan's two to three hours ahead of India.

 _"Ah! Hey, he's already on!"_ Tsubasa yelled, his lips stretched to a wide silly grin. _"Beware, though, he's in a bad mood."_

 _Whose fault is it?_ He glared at the man on the screen.

 _"Oh, and look, he's sexier this way!"_

 _I. Will. Burn. You._

 _"Did you do something?"_ Suddenly, a new voice— _female_ —was heard from the other line. For a second he was disappointed to know the coordinator's a woman, but that feeling dissipated as he found it oddly familiar that it brought a pang in his chest.

Tsubasa eagerly stood up from the chair and stepped aside, completely disappearing from the screen. Soon, a woman wearing a Pikachu-printed hoodie replaced Tsubasa, and he felt his world halt when she finally showed him her face.

Red eyes met with brown ones, both equally surprised.

 **TO BE CONTINUED**

* * *

 _DUN DUN DUUUUUUUUUNNNNN :D  
_

 ** _cheerry ;D_**

 _P.S. I promise we'll have more of Natsume's POV next :)  
_


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey hey hey! Sorry for the delay! Lemme just say, still here to stay!**

 _LOLJK. Really, tho, sorry for the delay. Lost the inspiration and had lots of things going on. Anyway, please do read my announcement after the chapter :)_

 **Summary** : Preparing for the Wedding of The Year is definitely not the ideal way of reuniting with your former lover.

* * *

 **Wedding Bells**

 **Chapter Four**

 **.**

 **By: cheerry-blossoms**

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Heart-shaped face, big round eyes, pink pouty lips, long auburn hair with curled tips... features he was used to seeing yet had not seen for so long. Those features either visits him in his dreams or haunts him in his nightmares.

There was no mistaking on it.

That grown-up woman on the screen was none other than Mikan, the only person who could turn him into a mess of emotions just by appearing on a laptop screen looking so naïve and confused.

He could never forget her face, that lovely face which surprisingly did not change that much after almost half a decade of not seeing each other. She only looked more mature, more womanly.

Oh, how he missed her so. If only he could reach out and pull her out of the screen to finally cage her in his arms, he would have done so right away. Just seeing her image on that rectangular object intensified his desire and longing for the woman; what would have happened if the encounter was in person? What would he have done?

After for what seemed like an eternity to him, he opened his mouth to utter her name; however, her live image was replaced by a blue background where the words 'Call ended' was typed on the center, the thumbnail of Andou's picture placed atop the words as if mocking him.

He had never been that infuriated at the sight of Bald Man's face.

Almost desperately, he tried calling Andou's account again, but it could not get through. Fuck this shit, why did it have to happen now, of all times? The chance to see the person he'd been searching for so many years have already appeared, and damn technology just had to mess up. Moreover, he had no idea what Harada's account was.

Maybe it was not the right time yet, or maybe fate was just harsh on him as punishment for what he had done.

Does he even deserve it?

The screen of his mobile phone lit, and he suddenly felt like an idiot for not thinking about using it. He hated video calls on phones, so he would have to settle on a regular Viber call for now.

 _"Yo! Sorry, man, some shit happened to my laptop."_ Andou's annoying voice rang through the receiver.

"Was... was that Mikan?" He could not help but inquire. Although he was sure of it, he figured he had to double check since there was a chance he might just be deluded by the need to see her.

 _"The coordi? Uhuh! Am sure ya gonna cooperate when it's her, eh?" So it really was Mikan_. Whether he should be excited or scared, he did not know. His mind got totally blank after the confirmation.

Andou sounded to have pulled away from his phone when he talked to someone with him, probably Mikan, _"Hey, I'm just kidding!"_ In an instant, Andou got back to him. _"Dude, I'm gonna put you on speaker!"_

Before he could express his discomfort, Andou shouted from afar. _"Mikan-chan, here's the photographer! I don't think he bites, or did he bite you alre—OW! That hurts, Misaki!"_ Suddenly, his pulse and heart beat rate increased doubly, not because of Andou's improper introduction of him. Of course he had bitten her already. Just a little.

There were sounds of shuffling and incoherent hisses, he figured they might be passing the phone to Mikan while arguing about what Andou just said.

 _"H-Hey... you're the, um, photographer?"_

Only that sweet voice could make butterflies flying in the manly Hyuuga Natsume's stomach.

"A-Aa..." _It's really Mikan_... he chanted in his mind, the erratic pumping of his heart not bothering him at all, if he ever noticed it. When he saw her, no words would come out from him, no matter how much he wanted to say something. He was surprised he could reply, even.

 _"I see,"_ Mikan cleared her throat. _"So, I'm gonna be... to... back... schedule..."_

God, it really is Mikan. Five years... it took him five years to look for her, to hear her voice, to hug her, to kiss her, and now, one of the mentioned was happening. Somehow he wished for Youichi to barge in and prove he was not dreaming. He was still in his own realm of thoughts trying to make sure if this was reality, he doubted her words registered in his mind.

 _"Um... are you still there?"_

"Third week." He automatically responded. _Damn, I can go there right now if you tell me to_. He may not have been focused on what she had said, but his genius mind had retained the word 'schedule' so he quickly deduced she had inquired of his free time. As expected, he was right.

 _"I see,"_ she mumbled, yet again. Seconds passed, and nothing came out from her. All he could hear were voices in the background, and scraping of paper noise. But he pondered; why was it easy for her to talk to him when he was finding it hard holding his emotions back? Had she moved on already? Was he the only one holding on to what they had?

Then Mikan had cut through his thoughts, _"They plan on having the wedding in April, but there is still no exact date. I still have to go talk to my uncle for the venue... and stuff."_

"Uncle?" As far as he knew, Mikan did not know her relatives, even her parents who abandoned her when she was still an infant. The nice old man who raised her was not a blood relative, but she treats him as such. So who was this 'uncle' she's pertaining to? Was she talking about Narumi?

 _"Yeah. For the pre-nup shoot, that would depend on the concept to be agreed on. They want a Naruto theme for the entire thing."_

"Hn." _What was Naruto again?_

 _"We're gonna contact you again for your pre-nup ideas and the schedule."_

"Hn." _Answer properly, Natsume, you idiot!_

 _"Do you have questions?"_

"No," _Too many_. "Do you?"

 _"Do you have your own team?"_

 _Can you be in it?_ "Normally, no, but I got Mochu, Koko and Kitsu for this."

 _"Alright, noted. I'll end the call now."_

 _'End the call, end the relationship,'_ they sounded the same to him.

"M-Mikan, wait!" He almost yelled, not wanting to stop the conversation yet.

 _"Y-Yeah?"_

But he had nothing to say. Should he ask her how she's doing? Should he pretend to be actually interested in the shoot? Should he ask for more details? Say sorry for what he did in the past? Ask if she's mad at him?

 _"Hello?"_

The answer was obvious, though.

"B-Bye."

Then there was complete silence for a few seconds he thought he could hear owls mocking him for his stupidity.

 _"I'm surprised you said goodbye now."_ Mikan remarked, her usual high-pitched voice suddenly turned low and cold. His heart stopped functioning.

"W-What?"

 _"Nothing."_

There was simply no need to ask for an explanation from her, really; he knew very well what she meant, and it hurt a lot, despite knowing he should have expected receiving such kind of treatment from her.

The moment she dropped the call, she also dropped his heart.

The somersaults and butterflies from minutes ago vanished, leaving him feeling hollow, instead. In all honesty, there was a small part of him wishing Mikan would go back to being her usual cheerful self around him once they meet—or talk—again because that was who she was. It was that trait of hers which made him fall for her in the first place.

Although, he was aware of the damage he did to her by his departure—judging from Ruka's daily reports before of Mikan falling into depression for a while—still, that was not the way he'd dreamed of talking to her again. There was no dramatic, teary reunion. It was on a fucking video call and phone call for fucking business. Reality was slapped on his face quite violently.

Tossing his phone to the bed next to him, he slumped on his seat lifelessly, fixing his gaze on the blank white ceiling as if the answers to his questions were written there. His palm covered his eyes whilst he tried holding back the tears threatening to spill.

Does he still have the chance to fix things? Was he allowed to be happy? Why won't things go his way? What was the meaning of this encounter if he only ended up getting hurt?

Hours have passed, and he was still widely awake. _1:37_ , the digital clock on the bedside table indicated. Thoughts of Mikan and the call earlier have been troubling his mind and heart; thus, despite knowing Ruka will get mad at him for this, he still dialed his best friend's number after reading Ruka's message about meeting Mikan in Tokyo. He knew Ruka would be able to somehow dampen his mood for a bit. As expected, Ruka's voice when he answered sounded groggy and irritated; however, once he started spilling out the happenings hours ago, Ruka stayed silent and listened throughout his rants.

He and Ruka don't gossip like girls and stupid guys; their conversations don't include hot girls, brands of clothing or sex. They talk about the more serious part of their lives, family and job, for instance. They have been friends since first half of his elementary years in Kyoto, reunited during middle school in Alice Academy. Details about themselves they don't bother sharing to others, both of them knew it. It's within their bro-code not to lie to each other, even when their friendship was put to a test at the arrival of a certain Sakura Mikan in their lives. Thankfully, it was not damaged at all as their friendship was more important than their love life.

"Damn it, I was caught off guard," he admitted, running his fingers on his hair and pulled on it slightly in frustration. "That damn old baldy knew this was going to happen."

Ruka did not comfort him with soothing, reassuring words—that's not his role, and they both know it would not do anything good. His good friend just had to hear him out, let him release the pain temporarily until he had exhausted himself. That's all he needed that time, and Ruka understood.

.

.

She continuously rolled on the bed while muffling her screams on the pillow she held to her face. Once she felt dizzy, she lied on her back and spread her arms and legs to her sides, closing her eyes as she regulated her breathing.

Natsume was the last person she had expected to work with for her senpais' wedding; she thought he would not even attend, but who was she kidding? Hotaru warned her about this and yet, she still went on with this.

When she first saw that familiar red-eyed man, she thought he was just a look-alike, until the laptop shut down and Tsubasa confirmed the man's identity to be Natsume, indeed.

In result, she panicked and ended up acting unprofessionally. It was Natsume's fault! He made her remember his voice, that unique way he used to talk to her which made her knees weak. His 'Hn's and 'Aa's were so _Natsume_ it hurt merely listening to him. She had to do her best in stopping herself from breaking down, as they were dealing with business and personal matters must be tossed aside—never would she show how affected she still was.

Honestly, though, she thought she was already doing a good job at it, but when he obviously showed no intention of ending the conversation and yet said 'goodbye,' she could not control the bitter feeling that spread in her chest and let out words she had kept in her heart for so long.

 _"I'm surprised you said goodbye now."_

That was not supposed to be out. She knew that caught Natsume by surprise, for prior to ending the call, she had heard him gasp. Even Tsubasa and Misaki were silent afterwards.

Tsubasa admitted to be the one who had Natsume take the job. They once met in an exhibit in New York, and he saw how good Natsume's pictures were. He said Natsume was the only person he could trust on capturing their special moments, so she accepted his reason and did not complain about it once.

Seriously, she had not expected Natsume to become a photographer. Perhaps, a model, someone loved by the camera, not the one loving the camera. When they were in Middle School, Natsume had loved cars more than his friends. He knew every single detail about them and could easily determine a car's brand without looking at the logo. An auto mechanic, that was what she and Ruka used to tease Natsume with whenever they talk about future jobs, and then Natsume would ignore her and Ruka for one day.

Did she not know Natsume all this time, then, or had he changed?

According to Tsubasa, Natsume was originally not an events photographer, thus explained why he did not have his own team. Also, she had not seen him in international bridal fairs or had seen his name and works in bridal magazines and online sites. Even if he would be mostly involved in corporate events, she should have heard his name somewhere. Apparently, he was the "artsy, deep type"—Tsubasa's term—whose works were featured in contests, exhibits and museums.

She knew she was slow and stupid; Hotaru tells her that every day. But she easily put together the pieces this time.

It brought her back to one of her Philosophy subject's introduction topics. She was so dumb in Philosophy she could not forget it.

Natsume's a freelance photographer who dropped by in Seoul the previous two weeks for an exhibit.

There was one Japanese in the art exhibit two weeks ago.

Ergo, Natsume was that Japanese photographer.

What bothered her more was that sunset photograph she had her eyes on during the exhibit in Seoul.

No wonder she was curious about it.

It was Natsume's.

And she was the girl in the photo.

 **TO BE CONTINUED**

* * *

 _-Soooo, just a heads up. Updates will reeeeaaaally be lesser because I finally have a job and it's taking up most of my time. As much as I want to update regularly, I have other things to prioritize first. I'm so sorry._

 _-Anywaaaay, what do you think of this chapter?_

 ** _cheerry_**


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